Inspired in part by the 1609 Sea Venture wreck and related events which led to Bermuda’s permanent settlement, the William Shakespeare play The Tem- pest could arguably be described as the best-pedigreed real estate prospectus in history.

Aside from forever equating Bermuda with enchantment, lush foliage and golden sands in the popular imagination, the play also neatly prophesied the enterprising character of those who would come to inhabit the Island in the line: “O brave new world that has such people in’t …”

Such people indeed.

The play’s romantic portrayal of the Island, incorporating as it did first-hand survivor accounts of Bermuda’s natural beauty along with sailors’ yarns about its supposedly supernatural qualities, only told part of the story. The reality of life on this remote pinprick of land would require a sturdy, resourceful stock, one inured to hardship and with an almost infinite capacity for adaptation.

For the fact is Bermuda’s prosperity and enviable quality of life are entirely modern phenomena, with the relatively short period since the end of the Second World War marking the longest sustained period of economic growth and social development in the Island’s four century history.

Prior to the mid-20th century most Bermudians lived a hardscrabble existence as the Island went through a seemingly endless series of boom-and-bust cycles, with the bust periods sometimes dragging on for decades. Indeed, it is believed that until the early 19th century the majority of Bermudians went from cradle to grave without ever owning a single pair of shoes,

Early efforts to establish Bermuda as a plantation colony with tobacco as its chief cash crop failed because of basic economies of scale: the Island simply could not hope to compete with the endless acreage of newly-settled Virginia. Although Bermuda was exporting 70,000 pounds of tobacco per anum by 1624, just a few years later the size of the Virginia crop yield had completely eclipsed the output of local farms.

With agriculture closed to them, Bermudians had to turn to the sea to earn their keeps. They embraced everything from shipbuilding to sailing as far afield as the Turks and Caicos Islands to rake and export salt (until the emergence of modern refrigeration techniques, salt was a key food preservative as well as a seasoning; a virtual state-of-war existed between Bermuda and the Bahamas throughout the 18th century for control of the lucrative salt industry in the remote Antilles island group — a conflict Bermuda ultimately lost when Turks and Caicos was annexed by Britain and incorporated into the Bahamas).

Bermudians also periodically turned their hands to less savoury maritime activities including piracy, privateering and wrecking. Such ruthlessness was occasionally a necessary prerequisite for survival.

But our nimble Bermuda sloops, which played such a pivotal role in Atlantic marine commerce for more than 200 years, became instantly obsolete with the introduction of steam-powered ships in the early 19th century. It would take more than 30 years for the Island to reinvent itself as a specialised winter garden market for the East Coast, exporting onions, potatoes and Easter Lilies.

And when a combination of punishing US tariffs and increased competition from Texan and Californian farmers dealt a mortal blow to our agricultural exports in the early 20th century, we recalibrated yet again and turned our farmland into hotels, golf courses and luxury homes as Bermuda embarked on the era of modern resort tourism.

Today’s Bermudians are heirs to this long tradition of adaptability and versatility.

As we witnessed during this week’s Heritage Day celebrations, regardless of whether our antecedents hail from Europe, Africa, the Caribbean or Asia, all Bermudians share a common love for their island home and recognise we share a common destiny. For the Bermudian identity is much more than the sum of its component cultural parts.

Given the traumatic events of recent years — widespread, long-term unemployment, a spike in violent crime and associated social ills — it’s not surprising some Bermudians have lost confidence and believe they have nothing to look forward to with hope.

But if history is any judge, our greatest achievements do not lie behind us but still lie in our future. And as has been said many times, the ability to shape the future is only earned through precisely the type of persistence Bermudians have constantly demonstrated in the face of adversity.

We are people who have repeatedly seized and shaped our own destiny in the past. We remain such people today.